We Already Know How the End Unfolds
by LadyjValentine
Summary: After years of living in the Vale, Sansa is caught and taken back to Kingslanding to face judgement in the murder of King Joffery. The only way she can be proven innocent is for her champion wins the trial by combat. Three (and a bit) part story. (Spoilers from all the books)
1. Part 1

**This is the first of three parts.**

**Part 1**

It was the waiting Sansa hated the most. The nervous feeling of not know how much time had passed or how much time it will take before the Septas come to prepare her for the day's event.

She had spent most of these last few years waiting. In Kingslanding, she waited for her father to be released and her sister to come back so everything could go back to normal. Then, she waited for Ser Dontos to take her to freedom away from the sadistic Joffery. Then, she waited in the Vale, for a marriage, for winter, for everything Littlefinger had promised her.

All her waiting has only lead to more heartache. Her father was murder, Ser Dontos put her in the hands of Petyr Baelish and now, after three years of hiding and practicing, of learning and waiting, they had found her.

She thought after all this time the Queen would have forgotten about her. Tommen was king now; Tyrion was an adviser to the Dragon Queen that was advancing across the Westeros, Joffery and his bloody legacy was dead and gone like ashes in the wind.

However, when she was revealed to the world, every person she thought of as an ally turned against her.

It was her wedding day when her dreams finally crumbled around her – Not the wedding to Tyrion, although that was still one of the worst days of her life – but the one to Harry Hardyng. Her maidens cloak was draped across her shoulders, the Stark colours giving her life again. She smiled the way Petyr had taught her to smile when she looked on her husband to be. Petyr held her arm and whispered how she looked more beautiful than her mother. It was exactly how it should have been.

Then it went wrong.

The next thing she knew people were jumping at her, tearing at her cloak, screaming and shouting. Petyr had gone from her side. Her hands were bound and her body was pushed to the floor. "I knew all along, House Royce should be held responsible for her capture" called Yohn Royce.

"She was to marry my ward. The she-wolf in my responsibility, I should hand her to the crown" shouted Anya Waynwood. The argued amongst themselves as two knights held Sansa to cold floor of the Sept.

Petyr had told her during winter everyone becomes a scavenger. He said, in winter, as the most powerful animals struggle to survive, the small insignificant animals will bring them food in the hopes when spring comes, they will be rewarded.

Sansa asked what if the more powerful animals just feast on the weak small ones instead of relying on them for resources.

That brought a Littlefinger smile to Petyr's face. "Some do" he said, examining her over his goblet "but I fear, when spring comes, and the small animals will mate and prosper, they won't follow the brute that butchered them or left them to starve, they will follow the kind graceful creature that praised them, protects them and gave them gifts like kisses."

She had spent the rest of the evening sitting on his lap, ignoring the bulge under her thigh. Part of her started to enjoy teasing him, when he wanted kisses and she would barely brush her lips against his. When she sat on his lap she would shuffle and hear him grunt knowing he couldn't touch her in that way. Torturing him in these ways was her way of getting him back for not taking her to Winterfell.

She had also learnt he would give her anything if she subtly whispered in her ear. She no longer had to wear the old dresses of her dead aunt, he bought her the finest silks and lace, all in modest Alayne Stone colours, but they made her look more like the lady she was than the girl she used to be.

Now Petyr was gone. She had heard a guard say that he had also been caught, while another said he had escaped across the Narrow Sea to get refuge with his mother's side of the family. Either way, he was not going to come and save her, whether she was Catelyn's daughter or not.

She was trapped in a cell in the Sept, accused of the murder of King Joffery Baratheon, first of his name. She found out this cell had been Queen Margaery when she stood accused by Cersei of adultery.

Margaery had come to visit her when Sansa first arrived back in Kingslanding. She was still beautiful, though she looked more womanly, her ever courteous manner started to remind Sansa of Cersei. Sansa watched the Queen's movements as she looked almost distraught when talking about Joffery.

She saw right through the Tyrell Queen, the way she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief though no tears were forming. The way she pushed out her chest or flicked her fingers in a distracting way to try and direct Sansa away from her face.

"You murdered my husband, do you deny it?" Margaery whimpered pathetically, her hand covering her mouth.

"I'll deny it to my last breath; I had nothing to do with our King's demise. I loved Joffery, from the moment I met him right to this day. As I sit in this cell and think about how much I would love to see him again." Sansa answered calmly, her eyes not parting from the Queen's.

"That is a lie" Margaery spat back a little too quickly for a girl who is clearly well trained in the game. She collected herself, sniffing into her handkerchief "We spoke and you told me Joffery was a monster, you told me not to marry him."

"Do you have any proof of me calling his grace a monster?" Sansa questioned, the Queen of Thrones had been dead almost a year, she was the only other witness in that meeting. Sansa let herself smile for a second it was a shy smile, an innocent smile. "But I will admit, for all to hear that I did tell you not to marry Joffery" She spoke loudly so anyone within the walls or outside the door could hear her "I was a child back then, I was so distraught about not marrying the King I would have said anything to be betrothed to him again."

Margaery's face went serious "You told me he was a monster, you told me he beat you in front of the court."

Sansa laughed sharply "Your grace" she said in an almost patronizing fashion "If I pleaded and begged you not to marry him, and if I told you all the hideous things, as you said I did, smart girl with a very close family like yourself would not have married such a boy, even if he was a king."

Sansa let that hang there, maybe she was waiting for the Queen to answer, but Margaery didn't respond. "I didn't kill your husband, you know that. Tyrion was going to take me from Kingslanding back to Casterly Rock; I see no reason why either of us would be willing to murder the Great King Joffery." Sansa paused "You were the only real winner after Joffery's death."

Sansa watched Margaery's face lose its composure "What are you accusing me of, traitor." She spat rising from the bench where she had been sitting.

_Tyrells, smart and beautiful but they are all as hot headed as bloodthirsty knights _Petyr had told her "Absolutely nothing your grace, why, what do you think I am accusing you of?" Sansa raised her eyebrows with innocent curiosity.

Queen Margaery didn't grace that with an answer. She left Sansa in the bleak cell, though it didn't feel as grim all of a sudden.

A week later was her first trial. It took place in the great Sept. Septas dressed Sansa in a simple gown of blue and grey, and her hair was left to hang in lazy natural curls.

She sat in the centre of the hall; in front of her were her judges. Mace Tyrell, Cersei Lannister, The High Septon, Maester Gormon, and Lancel Lannister who still looked as sickly and pathetic as ever, even though he was now the Lord of Casterly Rock.

The room was lined with spectators, various lords and ladies, new houses that have appeared due to Tommen's kindness and the Lannister's need for loyalty. They whispered around her but Sansa eyes focused on Cersei.

She had matured what seem like years since they last met, still beautiful, but it was aging slowly before her eyes. Her hair was shoulder length and golden blond; it sent a chill up her spine.

Not because she feared her – she no longer cared what the Lannister Queen did to her, she had taken so much, her life seemed insignificant – but because Cersei had been under the hands of the Faith's justice not too long ago. Sansa had heard from Myranda about Cersei's punishment, having her entire body shaved and marched through the streets of Kingslanding completely naked.

Sansa had her walls to shield her, walls she built up because of Joffery, walls created by the loss of her family, and walls that were called Alayna Stone. But no walls could protect her from that kind of humiliation.

By the look in Cersei's eyes, humiliation and more was exactly what she wanted for Sansa Stark.

The High Septon silenced the crowd and faced Sansa. "Lady Sansa Stark, you stand accused by faith and crown of the murder of King Joffery Baratheon. Do you want to own up to your involvement in this heinous crime?" the fat man spat completely disgusted.

"I am afraid I can't" Sansa answered, "For I had no involvement in his grace's murder." She watched all the faces carefully, making sure she looked each of them in the eye. Apart from Lord Lancel, who didn't look at her.

"So be it." The High Septon called. He went on to introduce the judges and then the first witness, Queen Margaery. She perched herself in the witness chair. She demurely stroked her lap, smoothing out the creases of her black satin dress. Every part of her looked like a young widow in mourning.

She played her part very well indeed. If Petyr was there, he would have told Sansa to look and take note. She talked about Joffery like he was a God among men, a King as great as Aegon the Conqueror. She kept exact details to a minimum, only really saying Sansa was at the wedding.

When it came to describing the moment Joffery started to choke, Margaery burst into a flood of tears, her crying was so effective Sansa was sure she might even make herself sick. Mace Tyrell ran over to comfort his daughter like the fool he was, but it was clear, she had sold her story to the on lookers. _Tears aren't a woman's only weapon_ Cersei had told her years ago, _but they are certainly an effective weapon_ Sansa thought.

A few more witnesses were called. Also not reliable but all accused her of being involved with the murder even if they didn't specify how, only that her and the "Imp" are to blame. Tyrion had already been proven guilty during his trial by combat. The New Gods were wrong, it wasn't Tyrion at all. Yet he had been found guilty. She had no love for her husband but she was happy that he escaped the injustice.

After the fifth witness was dismissed Cersei huffed heavily. "What do you know of Petyr Baelish's involvement?" she asked the other judges.

Maester Gormon croked sourly. Shuffiling a few pieces of parchment in front of him, he picked up one and read its content "He took the Stark girl away after the wedding. He proceeded to hid at the Vale after marrying Lysa Arryn and plan a marriage between the girl and Harold Hardyng. He was widowed shortly after his arrival in the Eyrie, confusing circumstances by the sounds of it.

"I have had word from the Maester of Eyrie that both he and Sansa were very supportive of Lord Robert Arryn before his death, and both mourned heavily when the young lord died. He also describes Petyr and Sansa – who at the time went under the name Alayne – having a very close relationship. He says and I quote 'the lord often looks at his young daughter as a wife rather than a child, they also often spent many a hour together in his solar'" The Maester Gormon glanced to Cersei with a suspicious sideways look.

"Hmm, I guess even a poor copy of Catelyn Tully is better than no Catelyn Tully" A sour pout appeared on Cersei's lips and she took a sip of her drink, it was most likely wine Sansa thought.

"And can you please stop calling her the Stark girl" Cersei whined in an almost childlike voice "She is a Lannister, she is married to my cretin of a brother, who believe me will be caught and punished for his crimes against my family" She spat the last part at Sansa, like she was blaming her for Tyrion's actions. "The girl's name is Sansa Lannister"

She had a few name in her time, Sansa Stark, Alayne Stone... Little Bird, but Sansa Lannister sounded vile to the ear. Sansa felt herself shudder and saw the older Queen grin with delight. "So Sansa _Lannister, _it is time to plead your case"

She rose for your chair and faced the judges. They will say she is guilty no matter what. She had no chance against these people, she had no allies, no real power, but she did have her words. Some people will see her as innocent no matter how many liars talk over her. She will die the honorable death. As the last living Stark, she will die with the blood of the first men running quickly through her veins. They won't sing stupid childish songs about her, but they will all know.

"Your grace and my lords, when I first set foot in your good city I was merely a child of one and ten. I knew nothing of this world, but I loved the Prince with all of my heart. When he became King my love only grew stronger, I would have been honored to be his Queen."

Sansa saw Cersei role her eyes, but the men on the panel looked engrossed, she discretely lifted her hand to her neck and saw three of them subconsciously copy her.

"When Joffery was ripped from us it was traumatic for me as well, I had no family, no hope, and I had lost the last person in this world that I truly loved with all of my heart. When I heard lies being told about me, I ran. Not because I was guilty, but because I was a child. I stand before you now, a lady flowered and as pure as the maiden herself. I stand here as the last Stark, and the last Tully.

"As a Tully I know the meaning of Duty, as I married Tyrion Lannister, and I will stand here now and tell you he is also innocent in the murder of King Joffery Baratheon."

That comment was met with a few whispers from the crowd and a scoff from the judges but Sansa continued.

"I also know the meaning of honor, I know that a King is chosen by God, he is above everyone of us. And history has also told you that we Stark are not short of honor, even my traitor of a father died trying to be honorable to at least his family by stating the truth about his actions." She took a long pause and focused on Cersei, if she was going to avoid a trial by combat she had to convince Cersei she was innocent. An impossible task but more impossible things have happened in Sansa's life time than she would have ever expected.

"And lastly Family, I know nothing of the pain of losing a child but I saw my mother by my little brother sick bed for weeks, she did not know if he would live or die but every day and night she feared it would be his last, she mourned for weeks waiting for her son to come back to her. I would not wish her pain on anybody." _That was the last time I saw her _Sansa remembered. She swiftly pushed the thought from her mind, being very careful not to undermine herself.

"So if you would all take a moment to look at the evidence in my favor instead of all the lies put against me. I had no access to Joffery's food or drink, I had no access to anyone who could have supplied me with this poison, and furthermore, there is no reason for me to kill his Grace." She watched each of them, her eyes pleading. She wondered if she cried like Margaery, would they pity her and see her as innocent. But she couldn't cry anymore, tears have frozen within her when the winter winds blew.

Mace Tyrell slammed his fist feebly on the table, "We understand you were young, a child couldn't have killed Joffery. This was the Imps work through and through."

Lancel cleared his throat, but it sounds more like a pathetic choking cough "She is married to the Imp, by law, they are one person. If he is guilty, she is guilty."

Sansa stood silent knowing the truth, the Tyrell's were to blame, but no one would believe that. They were too powerful, too good as this game. "Do you believe your husband is guilty?" Mace asked patronizingly.

They all expected her to blame Tyrion, it would have been the easy option, he had already been proven guilty in front of the Gods and he had run away as well. "My husband is as innocent as I am. He had nothing to do with King Joffery's death." Petyr would have told her to lie. Sansa couldn't do that, lying came easily to her now, but she was still her real father's daughter, Tyrion had been good to her, only a few men in her life had been.

The men on the panel looked unnervingly at each other, while Cersei looked like she was about to burn Sansa with her eyes "You do understand, the Imp has been proven guilty, if you stand by his side you are guilty as well." Lancel squeaked, his limp blond hair flicking in front of his eyes.

She straightened herself and stares coldly at them. "My husband is innocent, _your_ gods have lied to you, if you wish to hold me responsible for his apparent crimes then I demand another trial by combat. If it proves that I am innocent then I wish for the charges to be dropped against me and my him. As you said Lord Lancel Lannister, we are one, if I am guilty, he is guilty, therefore if I am innocent, he is innocent"

Cersei rose from her chair, slamming her fists on the thick wooden table "I forbid it, he killed my father and my son and he will be punished for it." She roared

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that he killed your father, I can't imagine how that feels." She snapped back sarcastically trying her hardest to keep her composure.

"Your Grace" Mace Tyrell hushed her, his weak jaw trembling, "What she suggests wouldn't make Tyrion any less guilty of your father's murder. She is just suggesting if her champion wins then they will both be innocent of Joffery's murder."

Cersei took a deep breath "if" she repeated with a smile. She sat back down and clasped her hands together. "_If_ you win, I will allow both you and the Imp to be pardoned. The crowns champion will be Robert Strong" she chimed musically and grin spreading across her face, so wide that the corners of her eyes crinkled.

"That is settled. Trial by combat, who is will to represent Sansa Lannister" The High Septon clapped his hands, pleased with his days work.

Silence filled the room. No one would be stupid enough to face the giant freak that was Robert Strong. Sansa had heard rumors about him. He was the Gregor Clegane brought back to life. He had been a terrifying figure before, now that he was completely nightmarish undead creature.

The stillness seemed endless; it was only broken by Cersei's giggle. "Should we just admit that the girl is going to have to fight for herself, I am quite excited to see what the last Stark looks like clad in amour"

A few others laughed. Sansa took a moment to look around the room. Her eyes caught Margaery's, she looked sad. Sansa remembered how she had offered to marry her to Willas, she could have been her good-sister.

"I'll volunteer for the girl if no one else steps forward" Jaime Lannister belted out. The smile was wiped from Cersei's face quicker than a crack of a whip. The twins that looked so similar glared at each other, an unspoken conversation passed between them.

"There is no need for that my lord" a harsh rasp came from the crowd. She span to look at him, forgetting her self-control. She felt like a young girl again. Her lips tingled with the memory of a kiss.

She hadn't seen him in the crowd when she entered the room, but he was so hard to miss now. He was taller than all the men around him, larger than them too, thick with muscle. His hair was pushed over the burnt side of his face. He looked at her only briefly, then stood at her side like a guard dog ready to pounce.

The judging panel gawped even Cersei had pulled her eyes away from her brother to gap "It seems both of the Clegane boys have risen from the grave" Maester Gormon quipped.

Sansa glanced up at his face, it was only the non-burned side she could see, but it looked just at terrifying as the mangled unseen side. His grey eyes stared forward, filled with fire.

The judges whispered amongst themselves. "Lady Sansa, you have to decide who you want to represent you" The High Septon boomed.

She considered Jaime Lannister. He still looked every bit like the knight she thought he was, even with only one hand. Him stepping forward confused her though, She didn't know why he did it, he had never even spoken to her before and now he was defending her against his sister and impending death.

Though, No one confused her more than the Hound. Even his presence in the room had sent her perfect façade out the window. He had promised to protect her before, but he left her with a kiss and a cloak. She wasn't stupid enough to believe he came back for her, to protect her, not after all these years.

The queen's eyes flicked quickly to her twin brother, a sudden look of fear glinted in the green pool. It would be sweet to see Cersei lose her knightly brother, to lose her only true protection, like how Sansa lost Robb.

She felt the Hound looking at her, his eyes peeling into her as she tried to come up with an answer. _You were dead, you left me then you died, Why are you here?_ She wanted to ask him, he would never do something as knightly as to come out of hiding just to fight for her justice; it was too much like those songs to be true. Then she remembered who he was competing against.

"I choose Sandor" she announced, anger boiling in her veins "He will be my champion."

* * *

My Notes - Thanks so reading, I own nothing.


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

_I should have said Jaime, _she kept repeating to herself like it was a magic spell. She thought maybe if she said it enough times the words would take her back in time and she could say his name. The first part of her trial had ended a while ago. The winter moon was high. Its white light sent shadowy gashes through the slit window.

Jaime would have likely died against Robert Strong and she would have been found guilty but it almost seemed worth it. He was the Queen's most loved brother, and an enemy of her family. To see him die would be justice enough to send her to her grave with a smile on her face. Then there was the Hound, a man built on revenge and bloodlust. He only came back to finally kill his older brother. Part of Sansa wanted to take that away from him, to hurt and disappoint him.

Though, she didn't. She wouldn't be like that, even with people like this. Sansa remembered a time years ago, when she lived in Winterfell and all her family was still alive. Arya had ripped one of her dresses, so Sansa broke a toy bow her sister had made. When her lady mother found out she said "revenge is never the answer, revenge won't change the past and it won't bring back something you love. Only justice can bring you peace" the next day her mother had mended the dress and Arya got a real bow.

She remembered her mother's words better than she remembered her face. She had a wisdom that Sansa had never found in books. She wondered if her mother was alive now, would she scorn her for wishing cruelty on these people. "I would never do it mother" she whispered to a being that wasn't there "I can dream about hurting them, but I would never do it, I am not like them." She lay down on her make-shift mattress of wood and straw. The finer pieces pieced into her skin and scratched her through her flimsy shift but she managed to slip away into her dreams.

She found herself in the main hall of the Great Sept of Baelor. It was night time; the normally rich coloured marbles walls radiated a polished darkness. It was disserted, apart from her, in a chair surrounded by the seven faces of the new Gods. She was dressed in the same blue and grey dress she wore to her trial but it hung looser, like she still had her childlike body without breasts or hips. She looked down at her pale trembling hands then back up to face her judgement from the gods. Their features had changed and all but one formed skin over their marble carvings.

The father's face was blurred, so much so that the features were unrecognisable, but Sansa knew it was her father, Ned Stark. Next to him was her mother holding her baby brother Rickon in her arms. Robb stood as the warrior, His hands held tightly to the hilt of their father's sword, Ice. The smith's face was completely engulfed by the darkness but by the size of him, he could only ever be The Hound. The Crone's expression matched Septa Mordane's controlled pout.

Sansa was the maiden and the only one still cast in marble. She was battered, bruised, and her dress torn to shreds. Her expression was an ice cold glare. The final statue had scraggy that surrounded a completely blank face. No eyes, nose, or mouth, just pale skin. The thing's hand was clasped around a short sword.

Sansa found herself on her knees. Her cheeks were damp with tears and her nails dug into the stone floor. She was crying harder than she ever did as a child, "I am sorry" she wailed staring at the blur that was her father's face "please forgive me, I never forgot you, I only pretended to" in the large room her voice didn't echo. It sounded like a whisper for a voice that didn't belong to her, right next to her ear. She even thought the hot breeze around her felt like someone's breath.

There was a shift in the air. The wind turned cold and swirled with a violent gusto that snapped at her dress and tried to lift her from the floor. When the gust stroked the statues they suddenly began to morph before her eyes. Her father completely faded from memory. Her mother paled and dropped her brother. He disappeared like fog before hitting the floor. Robb turned into a hideous bleeding wolf that collapsed to the floor in a gory heap.

Darkness enclosed in on Sansa. When the shadows touched her hands it felt like snow falling on her skin. The figures around her faded and were forgotten in her memory. The snow made from darkness landed on her marble white skin until she was gone as well.

* * *

_"_Oh Gods, what is wrong with me!" Sansa inwardly shouted. She had the dream four nights in a row, each time the figures faded quicker, one time she saw Rickon hit the floor, another she saw her mother rip her own face apart.

Her trial was drawing ever closer and it terrified her, though she wouldn't admit it to the snoopy Septas that brought her clean dresses and idle gossip about the War of the Dragon Queen. She had no supporters or no reason to live but she wasn't ready to die, not yet anyway. If the Gods were fair they would save her. _What Gods? _A familiar voice said in the back of her mind. After all these years, even she didn't know.

She knew the Seven, their names, the songs and the prayers that went with them, but what if they've forsaken her? When she lived with Petyr she would prayer in the Godswood. It didn't have a weirwood so it wasn't like the one in Winterfell but it was quiet, without singing or candles. She cherished the silence; she could go there and remember. Sometimes she even heard voices, her father's voice, and one or two times it was Bran telling her to be strong.

She wondered what would happen if she rejected the laws of the Seven completely and denied a trial by combat. _Likely they would just find you guilty by default _her mind concluded.

When a few Septas entered her cell she considered telling them about her new found respect for the old gods. Though, Before she could speak a spindly woman with long nails that always scratched her when she helped Sansa dress said "It is customary for the accused to meet with their champion before the trial. We have water coming for a bath, but do make any requests for your meeting, perhaps some wine" she smirked.

The other septa also smiled devilishly "Indeed, I don't remember much about the Hound, but I do recall he did enjoy his drink"

"I don't think that is necessary" Sansa snapped, "I can't imagine him staying long. If I must meet him, dress me suitability for the occasion, and would you all please keep your opinions to yourself, we are in a holy building after all" Sansa commanded glaring at the pair of them.

A sideways glance between the two Septa was all that was exchanged. They continued the rest their duties in silence. They bathed her and brought her a new plain dress of grey before exiting. In those few seconds when the Septas left to retrieve her champion, she realized she was about to talk to Sandor, alone.

After four years of wistful thinking and dreaming of a burnt warrior to come a save her, he is now here, telling her that he is willing to risk his life to defend her. Now though, instead of blushes and butterflies all she felt was anger. Her hands had formed fists on her lap and her jaw was set straight as she watched the door from her seat on the bench.

There was a heavy knock on the door. Sansa wondered if everything he did was heavy and rough, but she reminisced the way he gently dabbed blood from her lips, and saved her from falling. A queer subconscious smile formed on her lips but she quickly changed it into an apathetic frown.

The skinny Septa led Sandor Clegane through the door, for which he had to duck low for. Sansa had almost forgotten just what a huge man he truly was, especially in the tiny cell where he could barely stand up straight. The knights of the Vale couldn't compete with him, and certainly Petyr looked minuscule compared to such a man. She saw the twisted burns on his face had gotten no better from memory but possibly new burns had appeared on his neck and arm. She also noticed that this was possibly the first time she had seen him without armour on. He wore a heavy fur lined cloak which he removed and passed to the Septa. Underneath, he wore a simple brown woolen tunic and brown breechers.

She rose politely and curtsied. "My lord, I want to thank you for offering yourself as my champion" she addressed him graciously, making sure to look at his face knowing he would have liked that.

The Hound didn't bow to her, or address her, he merely smirked.

The Septa left them alone in the cell and another closed the door behind her. The footsteps and excited whispers drifted away and Sansa knew she was alone. "Would you like to take a seat…?" She almost said ser but stopped herself.

He continued to smirk. "As you wish, Lady Sansa" he answered in a mocking tone. Sansa glared at him as he took a seat. The bench lowered substantially as it tried to hold his weight.

It was strange to see him again, so close and so calm. He didn't look as angry as she remembered. His face was still hideously scared and he held it in the usual scowl, but his grey eyes were softer. They had always been what terrified her the most, they had been furious and pained; now they were different. Not kind, but controlled.

His mouth still twitched dreadfully but even that wasn't threatening. She had felt those lips on hers. They could spew out hatred and vile truths but they could also kiss. _Maybe after the trial I could kiss him again _Sansa thought in her lazy daydream.

"What?" The Hound barked harshly. She realized she'd spent five minutes just staring at him.

She pulled her back straight and kneeled in front of him, her palms felt damp and her face burned with a childlike blush "I am sorry, my urrr, I was just thinking deeply and I forgot where I was." She looked out the window to disguise her embarrassment.

_Calm down_ her mind told her as she tried to think of all her lessons. Since she started them with Petyr she always managed to keep her composure, in front of all types of folk, from lords and ladies, to commoners and knights. This was different though, then she had been Alayne Stone, even during the trial she could use her Alayne Stone walls. Now, around The Hound, she could only ever be Sansa Stark and that terrified her.

She heard him laugh at her "as you say Lady Stark"

She studied him again, this time in a different way. "You never called me that before" she murmured trying to find her voice.

"It is your name isn't it? It has been a while, you can't expect me to remember all the names of all the little girls in Joffery's court." He responded, his burnt side shuddering.

Sansa felt a pain streak through her but she tried to make sure it didn't show on her face. She smiled graciously as well but it was so forced that it hurt "Well, I remember you, you were kind to me" She lowered her voice to barely a whisper "You told me the truth about _him, _you tried to protect me. You... You never hurt me. For years I have wanted to say thank you" she presented the words like they were a lines from a script Petyr had taught her but that was only to make sure she kept control.

His face turned serious but his mouth twitched violently. For the first time since he walked into the room he tore his eyes away from her "I don't recall every being kind to you."

"Why are you lying to me?" Sansa shot back quickly, her mouth hung open in an immature scowl. Her voice was a pathetic whine, and her pain was evident. "You said you would never lie to me"

He didn't rise to the accusation like the old Hound might of. Instead, he look frustrated, he spoke to her like she was a spoilt child "Lady Stark I–"

"– Stop calling me that!" she rose from her knees so she towered over him. "You called me little bird, that was the last thing you said to me before you left me with them. If you carry on pretending not to remember then I do not wish to speak to you."

The Hound looked her up and down then rose from his seat. She was worried for a moment that he might walk out. He took a few steps towards her so that their chests were barely touching. He loomed over her, his mouth twitching but nothing about him was menacing. His actions were disciplined. She stared up into his grey eyes and took in his looks and scent. Last time they met he stunk like blood, fire, and wine. Now he was smelt of bath salts and cold sweat.

"You're not a little bird anymore" he marvelled oddly. He raised his hand like he was about to touch her hair but drew it back to his side nervously. "You're still chirping all those lies your septa taught you, and all these new ones, but your talons are sharper. I guess that what you get when you start living with falcons and mockingbirds. Is that what you are like now? Fighting like a falcon and singing lies as easily as the mockingbirds." He spat the last part in an accusing fashion, his restrained anger clear on his face.

Sansa put her hand on his arm to try and soothe him but he shrugged her off. "You've changed too" she pointed out sweetly, she held her hands together to stop herself for reaching for him again. He wasn't a lord or a knight, he was the Hound. He couldn't be moved like other men, he was built on emotions, and he only responded to reality. Lies and sweet words won't work on him. "I have to admit, I am surprised to see you like this, so calm, so not like yourself" she chimed coolly.

He chuckled coldly "and why is that Lady Stark?"

She repressed a shudder at the name, it didn't sound right when he said it, then again nothing felt right about her in that second, it was too Sansa Stark, but he wasn't the Hound. "Petyr told me that you went on a rampage about the Riverlands, you slaughtered and raped your way through villages. He said you were a rapid dog, far worse than you brother. People were scared you may have come as far as the Vale."

His grey eyes altered the moment she mentioned his brother. The anger was back burning in the grey like embers in ash, less controlled, more animal like. "What about you?" he sneered, jaw clenched tight, his fists were balled up like he might hit her. "Were you scared in the Keep with Petyr Baelish keeping you company?"

Her face stayed as emotionless as a marble statue of the maiden. She shook her head and hissed a soft "no" almost apathetically.

That annoyed him even more. He backed away from her like she was poisonous. "Stupid little bird" he chocked to himself in a familiar rasp, the words sent warm chills up her spine. "You still think you can be protected from the world by knights don't you. If I came to that Holdfast you were staying in I wouldn't have murdered every last person there, no knight could have stopped me. Or maybe the little bird has grown into a wolf with wings, she doesn't fear a great Hound like me anymore." His breath was harsh in his throat. Yet, he was noticeably trying to control his rage.

She unlocked her own fingers and took a few steps towards him. "I haven't been scared of you for years. If Petyr told me you were outside the Moongates I would have been surprised more than anything else." They were close together again, but not touching.

He rubbed his jaw with his hand and sighed, clearly trying to relieve his frustration. "why?"

"I thought you were dead" she answered frigidly. She found herself not looking at his eyes, but instead at his chest. "You could never do those horrible things people were saying. I know your brother massacred hundreds when Tywin ordered him to. You could never be a monster like him, not even under someone's ordered." She gazed up at him, his eyes still burning. She placed her palms on his muscled chest "I heard a rumour from a knight that you were dead, killed by your brother's men, hearing that actually hurt me more than I ever cared to admit, I would have rather believed you were a monster." She gulped down a choke, hoping that tears wouldn't form.

When she truly believed that he was dead was the moment when she lost all hope of leaving Petyr and his fantasy. It was one of the few nights that Myranda hadn't shared her bed and she was given some alone time between Petyr's whispers and Robert's games. She didn't even really notice that she was thinking about Sandor, then almost a moment later she was crying.

It was the last time she let herself cry. When she was the child that married Tyrion she had learnt to keep her tears to herself. In the Vale she attempted to stop crying all together. Proving to herself that she had no weaknesses anymore.

Even when she heard Jon had been betrayed by his brothers in the Nights Watch.

It had been Littlefinger who told her one evening in his solar. When he saw the tears welling in her eyes he grabbed her jaw in one hand and forced her to look at him "Be Alayne Stone all the time, she didn't know the Starks, she wouldn't cry from them, you shouldn't either" he then gave her an overly affectionate kiss then sent her off to bed. She whimpered to herself before falling to sleep but when the morning came, no more tears fell and she was Alayne again.

"You left me, then you died, and now you're here again" she whispered barely an inch from Sandors skin. She tilted her neck up, parted her lips and then waited.

"We shouldn't be talking about this" Sandor grumbled, his rash voice was shallow. He retreated and sat down in his space on the bench; his eyes focusing on every inch of the cell that was not her.

Sansa blushed heavily, embarrassed, confused, and now remembering why she was angry at him before he entered the room. She put on her stone face and knelt down before him again, never slouching or taking her eyes off him.

"We must discuss the fight, is there anything you expect of me, my lady" he inquired.

She tried to meet his eyes but he avoid her's at all costs "I expect you to win, my lord" she fumed, her irritation evident.

He peered at her like a pathetically nervous creature "Don't be short with me, _My Lady"_

_"_I am sorry, I am just confused why I should have to tell you how to do something you have been doing your whole life" Sansa sarcastically stated, her fingers fiddled with her dress and she pursed her lips. "Anyway, I am sure you already have a plan to kill your brother, I doubt anything I say will change that" Sandor tore his eyes from hers like he had just been struck. She almost laughed at him. "That is why you're here isn't it? To kill your brother? I don't know why you are wasting your time talking to me when clearly you want to sharpening the sword you're going to drive through Gregor Clegane."

He put his head in his hands "I thought the years would have made you more mature little bird" he grunted into his hands.

"Oh is it little bird now?"

"I would call you Lady Stark if you actually acted like a lady and not a spoilt little child" he barked, his control slowly slipping.

"I don't see why you would call me Lady Stark. You might not know this, but after you left me they married me to Tyrion, therefore I am a Lannister now."

Sandor rose from his seat and trampled his way straight past her towards the exit. "I asked you to come with me, and you refused me." He snapped loudly when he was close to the door "If I knew they would have given you to him, I would have dragged you from that keep"

There was a stillness that was only broken by the sound of his breath. Sansa remained seated "Words are wind" she answered coldly, her jaw felt tight. She turned back to the bench and listened to him breath. He took another step to the door "And can I just clarify, I never said no" she added.

He moved swiftly then, bonding back from the exit. The Hound grabbed Sansa by the top of her arm and pulled her to her feet. He turned her around and pushed her into the wall not as harshly as she would have expected. "Don't lie to me girl, you were never going to say yes to me"

Sansa scoffed fearlessly "Did you expect me to say yes? At what moment did you think I was going to leap into your arms and agree to runaway with you? When you pushed me down on to my bed and threatened to kill me? Or when you held a knife to her throat and demanded a song?"

Moving away from her, he shook his head "Fucking Hells little bird, you blame me for leaving you, you were never going to leave with me"

"You belonged to Joffery, did you expect me to trust you?" she thrusted herself off the wall so she could be toe to toe with him again.

"No I didn't expect you to trust me, but then I found out you fucking trusted Little-fucking-finger!" he roared so loud the entire building and half of Kingslanding probably heard.

Sansa groaned, her frown deepened, there was no point hiding her anger now "You have no idea what happened before I ended up in the hands of Lord Baelish. I didn't have a choice!" she belted back, not as loud but certainly just as furious.

"Oh, be fucking honest. Up in the Eyrie and the Vale you weren't exactly worried about Petyr treating you like the bastard Joffery did. When you ate with him every night I am sure you were bloody gratefully he swooped in to take you to safety."

Huffing, she folded her arms across the chest "When I was taken from Kingslanding by Petyr, yes I was grateful, I was going to be accused of murdering a king I had no other choice. And, why shouldn't I be grateful? When he took me away he did it because he loved my mother, he expected nothing from me" Sansa said boldly.

He looked her up and down like she was filth "When he first took you away you were a girl, but I am guessing when the pretty little bird got bigger tits, and soft hips, he expected more from you than just your pretty smiles. He is a man and over the years all he would see is the tight cunt sitting in front of him, he probably wondered if it felt like your mother's." He leaned in close to her, his mouth snarling at her "I am sure you gave it to him happily because you are so damn gratefully of the things he did for you"

That was when she slapped him. Hard, with the back of her hand on the unburnt side of his face. The slap made little noise but when she drew her hand back it stung red. It even left a mark on the huge man's face. Her attacking hand trembled, worried he may hit her or even worse completely walk out and never see her again. "I am sorry, that was unladylike" she chirped bowing her head.

She looked at her hands waiting for his next movement. She heard him laughing, a thick warm laugh coming from his belly. She gazed up. The unburnt side of his face was crimson and painful looking but he still laughed at her.

She started to think of her next words but she was hushed by Sandor "Don't" he chuckled with laughter tears in his eye "don't say sorry, I deserved that, I was being a nasty bastard" he clicked her jaw "Gods little bird, that almost hurt, who have you been practicing on? The Imp? Petyr?"

Sansa giggled nerviously "no one actually, neither of them gave me reason to, it takes a special kind of man to frustrate me as much as you do"

His mouth twitched into a smile, his teeth even gleamed through like he hadn't smiled like this in years "You're stronger than you were" He observed proudly "but you're still the pretty little bird, saying fancy words and sorrys" she pushed some auburn hair from her eyes, he looked like he was about to ask her a question but he stopped himself. Instead he said "You're just like the ladies you hear about in songs"

_And you're like a hero _her mind thought but she didn't dare say it. He wasn't a hero, he came here to kill his brother, and nothing else mattered. Whatever this moment was, the way he was looking at her, it didn't matter, her life wasn't a song. "I'm not" she whispered "I have just gotten better at pretending to be like one."

His lifted her chin and ran his callus hand down her neck sending chills across her skin. "You really are like something out of a song. You have fire within you, in your hair, and in your eyes." His hand glided across the soft curls in her hair.

She pouted playfully, it was something Petyr had taught her to do when enticing Harold, but now it felt natural "I thought you hated fire"

He chuckled to himself "I do, but in winter, we need fire to keep us alive"

They stood for a long while just there, watching each other, neither of them speaking. The midday sun was setting early into the unforgiving winter night. Pink light decorated the room with a heated glow. Crows flew by delivering messages, probably from the war effort down south.

"Where have you been all these years?" she asked leaning into him slightly. She felt his heartbeat through his thick woolen tunic.

"Healing. I needed to recover from this shit heap." He grimaced out the window.

"Then, is it a good thing that I didn't come with you then?" she asked mischievously, she giggled lightly but he didn't smile.

He gulped. On the burnt side of his neck she could see the muscles quiver. "Only if… he… did _he_ hurt you?" he stuttered fearfully, like it was a question he was scared to hear the answer of.

Sansa smiled and shook her head "Tyrion? No, he never touched me after our wedding night, and even on that night he didn't fulfill his deeds as a husband. He scared me though, but everything scared me back then. Even you but that didn't last long, when you were gone, I just wanted you back again. You could never hurt me, you would have protected me and I would have never been scared again" she cupped his cheek like she did that night all those years ago.

His burnt side twitched like it was about to smile but instead his eyes filled with tears. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight embrace, his face pressed against her belly "I am sorry Little Bird, I am so sorry."

Sansa steadied herself, almost losing her balanced from the ferocity of his embrace. When she found her footing she stroked his hair lightly "Don't be sorry, when you were here, you helped me, you taught me about the world, you said enough and gave me a cloak to cover my shame, I remember it all."

_He is actually crying_ Sansa noticed, she let her hand travel across his head and down his face. "No, I could have killed them all and I let them beat you, I left you with that monster with nothing but a damn white cloak. I heard you had been caught by the Lannister bitch I came back to be your champion. I thought maybe if I fought for your life it would have done enough to deserve your forgiveness; but I can't beat him Little Bird" he sobbed into her dress "I couldn't fight him then and I can't fight him now, I am too old, too weak. I will lose to him and you will have your head chopped off for it."

Sansa pulled her arms from her waist so that she could crouch down with him. "Don't cry Sandor" she hushed him taken his face in his hands. He looked young, harmless, weaker than Robert Arryn ever looked "It'll be ok, you are my warrior, stronger than anyone I know. You are stronger than my father and my brothers; you are stronger than lions and mountains. You have beaten fire and you have already out lived your brother once, you can do it again." She leaned in a kissed him gentle on the burnt side of his lips "I am innocent of these crimes and you are a better man than all of them, that means the gods will let us win" She planted another kiss on the other side of his mouth.

She rested her forehead on the bridge of his nose.. "Little Bird…" He rasped.

She silenced him with another kiss on his bottom lip. It was softer than in her memory, the ruined side wasn't quite so scabbed and the fine side wasn't quite to cruel, they were full and soft and placed fully on hers. She felt his lips tighten under hers and he was kissing her back. It was a far more furious kiss than the one she remembered and far more… real, if that is possible. She moved her hands down his damp ruined face to his thick neck then rested one hand on his thigh and the other balled his shirt on his chest up in her tiny fist.

He didn't touch her at all, his hands stayed at his side but he leaned into her, opening his mouth for her tongue and at one point bite down on her lip when she pulled away slightly only to push herself back onto him harder.

She was left breathless when he eventually forced himself away from her. "You shouldn't do that." He choked, his grey eyes still wet and staring into her, undoing all her thoughts.

"But I wanted to" Sansa breathlessly answered not sure what to say, her hands clutching on to his shirt and upper thigh.

He prized her from his shirt and he pushed his way to his feet. He moved toward the door, making clumsy steps as if he was drunk. Balancing himself on the door frame, his mouth hanging open struggling to breathe.

His face was lit by the hot red early evening sky. She saw something in his eyes, lust possibly or maybe something more innocent than that "I will win tomorrow, for you." he spoke with nothing but weakness, his hands shaking. "and after the fight I will take you from this place, somewhere safe. I will never break another promise to you Little Bird" his pained rasp was hardly louder than a whisper. He swung open the door, almost ripping it off its hinges, and stridden away.

Sansa was perched on the floor, her dress spilling around her. Her skin prickled curiously. She could still feel him on her lips and taste him in her mouth. Her first kiss was so innocent compared to this one, it barely happened in comparison.

A few Septas entered, each swapping suspicous glances between each other. They couldn't have known what happen, and if they did Sansa didn't care. "Is you champion ready for tomorrow" asked the skinny one as she slowly unlaced the back of Sansa dress.

"Yes" Sansa replied with a wolfish grin "I believe he is"

* * *

**My notes: Sorry for the late entry. I own nothing and that is final... I do so great apoligise if this isn't as wonderful as I wanted it to be, I will proof read it soon and correct everything, I have looked over it quite a few times but it is likely I have made mistakes again.**


	3. Part 3, I

**My Notes:-** I have some explaining to do, sorry for the late post and even more sorry that this isn't actually the end. This is the first half of the end. Which I am very sorry about. Though, the entire would be over 14'000 words long so I am giving it to you in two nice slightly shorted 8'000 word chucks.

I hope you enjoy. I also own nothing.

* * *

Part 3 - I

She lay her head down on the hard wooden bench. Her hair acting as a make-shift pillow. She had no intention of sleeping, though, she knew she should of. She would need to be at her best tomorrow, she'll need her smiles, her polite words, and hopefully not, though just in case, her tears.

Yet still she didn't close her eyes to sleep, instead she waited.

_I doubt I could sleep even if I tried, _she thought feeling a bitter breeze sweep in from world outside.

Her blood was still warm from the kiss. She still tasted him, his lips, tongue, and teeth, and she could also still feel him on her fingers. The knot of muscles on his chest and his heart beating like the drums on a warship, and the way his thigh tightened under her touch still gave her devilish tingles that spread through her body.

She wondered if this is the same feeling Petyr felt when he forced kisses on her. Petyr was always the first to kiss her, stealing them when they were alone. It never went further than a kiss but she knew he wanted to. It was only the deal with Harry that stopped him.

_If Petyr had visited me instead of Sandor, he would have taken me on this stone floor, _she knew that much, _if it was any other man they would of taken me, but it wasn't. _

She sighed with sleepy smile and wished for Sandor back in the room. She wanted to hear about his adventures. Who did he meet? How did he survive in the war torn Riverlands? So many question, that won't be answered because they'll likely be dead before the sun sets tomorrow.

Sansa didn't know whether she did fall asleep or not. But when a loud creak came from the unlit fireplace she could have leapt from her skin. In the shadowy room Sansa barely saw a figure appear from the floor. In the darkness it had no feature but there was a distinct roundness about it.

When it had settled into stillness she felt it turn to look at her "I hope I didn't startle you from sleep Lady Sansa" a fearful light voice sounded. Sansa recognized it instantly.

"Lord Varys?" she asked the nothingness, sitting up and fixing her hair.

He moved forward into the moonlight. His skin was still pale and plump, but under his hood Sansa saw wisps of thin white hair on his head, likewise on his chin. He looked shabbier than he ever did in court. He wore dark brown clothes that matched any gaoler. Petyr had told Sansa of the Spider, about his little rats and his disguises, he lurked in the cracks in the walls as well as any of his cretins.

"I am glad you remember me my dear, I am expecting Littlefinger mentioned me in the years you two spent together." He said softly, his eyes inspecting her.

Sansa straightened her back like she was having a meeting with the Queen _he is probably one of the Tyrell creatures come to find some more evidence of what I know about Joffery's death, _"He did indeed my lord" she said politely meeting his eyes "He spoke very highly of you"

"I doubt it, I'm sure whenever my name was mentioned a small joke about my cut wasn't too far behind it" he joked coldly "Then again, maybe he'll think again before mocking me, considering the events that have taken place."

"What do you mean my lord?" She asked clasping her hands together like a child being told a story.

Varys copied the movement unconsciously but quickly moved his hands to his side again looking inquisitive "Littlefinger made a big mistake taking you from this place. An mad move, especially someone in his position, it would have been so easy from them to find you. He never saw it himself though, maybe over confidence was his downfall. Or maybe it was that manhood, I can't say, it is not like I can relate to his problems." He tilted his head to the side and smiled shadily.

"When he took me from Kingslanding he wasn't thinking with his…" Sansa suppressed a childlike blush "he was thinking of my mother, he loved her like family." It was a lie he had told her, one she used to believe. Varys knew better, she could feel him laughing at her. "Are you here just to discuss Lord Baelish?"

"Perhaps, maybe I am here on behalf of the Queen, maybe she thinks you know his whereabouts, maybe she thinks Petyr is coming for you."

"I doubt it" Sansa hissed back sharply. She looked out the window; it was a clouded night, thick and twirling, probably going to rain. _How fitting, rain on the day I might die, almost like a line from song, _as if she believed in them anymore_. _

Varys sighed falsely "Do you not think Petyr will come and save you, you are Lady Catelyn's daughter after all and as you said, she was like… Family? Is that how you put it?"

Sansa laughed at his joke, she still didn't meet his eyes "Petyr likes good investments, and my life is simply not worth it anymore."

Varys tutted "Oh, I must disagree, your lord father spoke very highly of you. I met him the day before his sad demise" He said in a suggestive manner, his eyes inspecting her to see how she would react.

Sansa continued gazing out of the window with bored fascination, but the muscles tightening in her neck was a clear give away "You met my father before he pleaded guilty?"

"Indeed, in fact, I was the one who told him to plead guilty" The nonchalant way he said it in sent chills up her spine.

Gulping, she forced her eyes back to his, her jaw tight."My father shouldn't have needed to be told. If he was really an honorable man he would have freely admitted to his crimes, he was a traitor and he'll be remembered as such" Her eyes never left his face.

"Petyr taught you well" Varys applauded mockingly "But I was always better than Petyr" He stepped ever closer to her and kneeled down in front of her. "You don't have to lie to me, we both know your father was innocent, the only thing he was guilty of was trusting the wrong people"

"People like you?" she asked her jaw feeling heavy.

Varys took her hands in his soft pump ones "People like Littlefinger" he must have seen her eyes narrow "my dear, I was not an enemy of your father, I never wished for him to perish, I wished for him to leave the small council because he did not belong there. He was not as smart as you are now. The people your father trusted and incidentally the people that killed him are not like me. They live for money, they work for other lords, and they try and curry favor with allies by stabbing friends in the back. I am a masterless man, I don't work for no flower or lion, for now, you can trust me."

She bitterly laughed "Trust?" _you people don't know the meaning of the word _she rolled her eyes_._

"Yes trust, people like me may not be great or good but we can be moral. You trusted Lord Baelish and he never gave you in."

"I trusted Petyr with my life" Sansa admitted looking at the hands he held "I have said it before, my life isn't worth very much" she pulled her hands away and looked him in the eye "And neither was my father's, _was_ it?"

"I don't know what you mean"

"What I mean?" She pursued her lips but kept calm "I heard that you visited my husband as well, during that visit you released him and he went to kill his father, that's true is it not?"

Varys looked almost distraught but Sansa didn't believe it "My lady, Tyrion would have been executed if he stayed in that cell. You don't wish your husband to die do you?"

"Don't you dare" she hissed, her anger growing, she repressed it with a sharp intake of breath "I don't wish for Lord Tyrion to die, I wish for my father to be alive."

His eyes tacitly darted around the room "So did I" Varys held his hands tightly together "I never expected Joffery to kill your father. I told him to admit to his crimes because he was worth more alive then he was dead. His life was worth millions, more than any king. If you might recall, when King Aerys died it started a short time of peace, when King Robert died it started the questioning of who should be heir, when your father was murdered, it started a war. If that doesn't show what his life was worth then I don't know what will. So believe me, I did not wish to hurt him, no more than I wish to hurt you. You are both valuable, as was Tyrion."

Sansa shrugged coolly but listened carefully to his voice. She didn't know what to believe but she knew enough about Varys that he shouldn't be completely trusted. "So, why are you here then if you don't wish to hurt me? Do you want to take me away?"

"No my dear" he giggled as if he was one of Margaery's cousins "You may be worth a lot but you are worth the most when you are proven innocent tomorrow. If I steal you away then you'll be on the run, and that isn't the life for you."

"How did you know I was here?" Sansa asked quickly "Petyr said you fled Westeros after you freed Tyrion. Were you at my trial?" she sounded so childish she could of cursed herself.

"I didn't make it to the trial, it is a shame because I am sure it was dramatic, Margaery put on quite a show I heard. Also, just because I am not in the small council doesn't mean I don't have ears everywhere. My little birds still tell me tales. Oh, listen to me, trying to tell you the life of my Little Birds. I rightly heard you are already someone's little bird."

Sansa struggled not react or blush too heavily, but she did avert her eyes for barely a moment "It is rude to listen to two peoples private conversations"

"That was my job for many years, even before you were born. In this world, nothing is a private conversation."

"If that is the case, why are you here talking to me? You already know everything"

"Not everything Lady Sansa." He giggled.

She thought for a second, looking the plump man up and down before smiling pleasantly "So let's make it a game. You ask a question, then I ask one. We stop on my terms"

"How very Littlefingerish of you"

"I'll take that as a complement"

"Do you want to go first?"

"Oh, Lord Varys, I think you should, considering you are willing to crawl through walls to see me"

"Ok, why do you think Jaime Lannister step forward as your champion?"

She shrugged "I don't know. I assumed maybe someone asked him to. I have never spoken to him before and Jaime is no friend of my family. I am sure he has his reasons, you should probably ask him."

Varys nodded her head, listening intently "Your turn"

_What would you ask a man that knows everything? _Sansa wondered. "Is Petyr still alive?" she instinctively asked without much thought.

Varys was taken aback by this, he frowned at her with what looked like an honest emotion "He is not as far as I am aware my dear, my birds have told me he was seen leaving the Vale by horseback, after that, only the gods know. You can't say you miss the man, and he did kidnap you."

"Your little birds must have told you he never hurt me, he protected me far more than anyone else did. Whatever his reasons were for helping me. He did. Without anything in return." When Varys rolled his eyes, Sansa scowled at him "Don't start pretending you care about my well being. You never spoke to me before this evening and you never protected me. Even Tyrion protected me."

"I couldn't protect you even if I wanted to, just look at Petyr, he didn't help you until he knew no one could see him. Maybe I am the same." He grimaced uncomfortably and asked the next question. "Did you know you were smuggling in poison into Joffery's wedding"

"No I didn't, but I did do it, I took in the poison that killed Joffery, poison that was taken from my hairnet by the Queen of Thrones."

Varys raised the space were his eyes should be "Even in ignorance, you are a part of the murder. It is brave to admit such things."

"Hardly brave, I am sick of lying. I am sick of whispering by candlelight and forcing smiles by day. I deserve my rest, so if you are expecting sweet lies from me that'll amuse you then you'll have to wait till the morning. Then I'll be facing the people and they'll all already have their judgments on me, I will need to use my best tricks to convince them otherwise."

"How do you think they see you?" he asked innocently, his tone of voice frustrated her.

"Well lord Varys" she answered in an equally innocent and patronizing manner. "Some see Ned Stark's traitor daughter, other's see a wolf child that murdered King Joffery. A few see the innocent girl who has been abused since the moment a sadistic boy executed her father. The thing is; if people see me as a murderer I will be treated like one, likewise, if people see me as the maiden, they will treat me as such. Yet, I am not the maiden, and my life is not a song. In the end I will be judged by the gods and we both know how merciless the Gods can be.

"Luckily they can only truly judge me after I die. Before then it is the people that decided. It is the poor that will talk about us, the common men who follow a king into battle, the farmers feed us, and it is the singer that will tell stories of our lives and make us legends."

"Would you like to be a legend?"

Sansa scored "No, what is the use of being a legend, you'll be dead. I want to be loved while I am alive, be loved by everyone. I want people to follow me because they want to. I want to walk from the trial tomorrow and have a crowd of people knowing I am innocent, I want them to know I am a Stark, and the Stark's have honor and we are not killers. Sandor will fight for me, and if he wins it is down to me to get us out of their safely, we need a free pass through that crowd of people. What if Sandor is hurt, I can't expect him to carry through a mob again. "

"And how do you plan on doing this my lady?"

She smirked in a particular way that probably made her look like Littlefinger "I have already said my lord… If they believe I am as pure and as perfect at the Maiden, they will love me as such… The people don't really care about truths. They want to hear stories of dashing knights and princesses in towers. If they hear a tale of woe and heartache, of a northern girl losing her family only to be locked away in a snowy keep, it is just too delicious for people not to believe."

Varys twitched his face like he was raising an eyebrow that wasn't there "Is that not the truth?"

She thought of a second "The truth is hazy for me; it seems lies come far more naturally for me now. I think the only person who knows the truth anymore is you and though I don't trust you, I am not worried about you telling anyone. You have no more love for the Queen than I do. Petyr told me you want the Targaryen on the throne and I won't stop that. After tomorrow, if my champion wins, I'll go off with him, possibly to the not-so-free cities across the sea, I am no concern of yours."

"You may be wrong their Lady Stark, with a Stark name and a mouth that resembles our friend Lord Littlefinger, well, the world could be yours." Varys rose from his knees and stood over her. His face was completely cast in shadow but Sansa could see a faint smile in the pales of his eyes.

"A name is nothing without a real claim, if you don't remember; the north is a wasteland belonging to the Boltons." She exhaled a humorless chuckle.

"Oh but you do have a claim my lady, and people will follow. The people already love you. The Queen knows you have that power, that's why she is afraid of you" he planted the comment in her mind before turning back to the fire place.

"The queen is afraid of me?" her voice showing her disbelief. Sansa knew the Queen; she was vicious and had called Sansa stupid. It wasn't possible for a wolf to be feared when she has no teeth or claws "How do you know?" she immaturely asked.

He paused just before the exit in the floor, not looking at her he knelt down "I was the master of whispers, _was_ being the operative word, but that doesn't mean my little birds left when I did. I still hear their tweets, they still search and find hidden treasures" Sansa heard the ruffling of fabric then the noise was thrown to her. A white, yet stained material fell at her feet in a creased heap. From its place on the floor it sent whiffs of blood, wine, and fire.

"You have the ability to command love, even without the lies Petyr taught you. Powerful people will follow you if you ask them to because they respect you for your name and your image. Cersei used to own that power, it is lost to her now." There was the sound of stone scraping stone then Varys bonded towards her, making sure not to step on the fabric on the floor, and took her hands in his. "Your life is more of a song than you have been lead to believe, and like the best songs, there are always trial and tribulations for the Knight and his Lady, but there is always a happy ending, even in life here can be happy endings." He rubbed a small pattern on the back of her hands not meeting her eyes. "When the fighting has done, stay in Kingslanding for a while, you can have a better life than the one you would have had in the free cities."

He let go of her and shrunk back into the darkness. With a creak and a bang he was gone.

Sansa immediately reached down and pulled the white velvet to her face. It was soft on her skin and its scent filled her throat with a glorious heat. She threw the cloak around her shoulders and pulled it tight around her chest. The whiteness had its own light and the nighttime wasn't as dark. Even the next day seemed so far away when she was protected by his kingsguard cloak.

* * *

Sansa is woken by a woman clearing her throat.

She looked up to find four Septas stood around her, giving her and the cloak questioning looks. The skinny one, who had be the one to clear her throat, took a step closer and presented a fine dress of white and silver "Her Grace request you wear this" she courteously said, but there was a twinge of distaste in her voice.

Sansa yawned and stretched out to touch the dress. It was velvet with detailed embodied patterns of birds in pear trees "Which Grace should I thank for this honour?" Sansa asked skeptically.

"King Tommen's Queen, Queen Margaery. She requested we should have had you fitted but Septa Orna said such a gift is too much for you" The skinny septa spat, her hands coiling into fists around the dress she was holding.

"It's a shame you had to meet me under these circumstances" Sansa lightly jested, looking up at the woman's lean face. "Many ladies who meet me do find me to be very friendly. If you worked in the castle when it was my residence I am sure we could have been friends."

The Septa's mouth went tight and her eye seemed to twitch. "We are here to dress you, would you please remove that ghastly cloak so we may proceed."

Sansa tried to keep her face as ladylike as possible but she wanted to return the scowl to the septa. _You wouldn't have wanted to be friends with me anyway, Jeyne was my friend and she's likely dead now. Then there was Ser Dontos, he betrayed me and was now lying in the black water on the other side of the city. Perhaps Margaery was a friend, a charming friend that lied to me, gave me false hope, only to let me be accused for a murder I didn't commit, have my name tarnished, and is now brings me a beautiful dress of Stark colours and Baelish symbols. Why? _

No, Sansa didn't attract good company in Kingslanding, likely this snooty septa that hated her so would be another one to betray her secrets to Cersei, or get hurt in the game of thrones.

She nudged the white velvet from her shoulders and let the women dress her without complaint.

The city was alive outside, far louder than it had been since she arrived. It could only mean a crowd was brewing to greet her on her way out.

A demure knock sounded from the door as one of the septas was finishing her hair. They left it partly down, by her request as she didn't want to follow the southern style. Sansa had wrapped the cloak around herself again, holding it tight around her neck and was willing to fight any woman who tried to take it from her. They didn't, they only exchanged a few choice glances.

The door opened and in stepped the Queen.

A ball rose in Sansa's throat seeing her draped in red and gold. She wore a feline-like smirk on her face. Her eyes crinkling showing her age "Joined the Kingsguard Little Dove?" She mocked, "Leave us!" she said to the Septas. The woman fixing Sansa's hair quickly stopped and left a twist to fall lazily from its place.

When they were alone Cersei focused her eyes completely, possibly trying to look like she was powerful. Sansa found her amusing "The cloak was a gift from my champion." Sansa explained

"I am glad to hear that, I was thinking maybe it was from Jaime, I wouldn't want his fondness towards you becoming noticeable."

Sansa raised an eyebrow smugly _Jaime is fond of me? How strange _the thought made her girlishly smile but she didn't think about it too long "Oh, I think any fondness for me was noticeable when he wanted to be a champion." The queen shuddered at the thought, Sansa could see jealousy in the Queen's eyes, it only amused her further. "He's very gallant isn't he, your brother"

Cersei grimaced "He's a fool, any man will lose against Robert Strong, especially a cripple him."

"In the eyes of the gods, even a cripple will win if I am innocent."

The queen bounded toward her then and pulled her from her seat "You think you are clever, just like Petyr" she didn't wait for an answer, she grabbed Sansa jaw between her fingers and forced her to look her in the eye. The green was burning like wildfire "You think you are so clever with your lies. My freak of a brother lied to, he was far better than you but I could see through him. I saw him poison my son, and you helped him you little cunt. You killed him and then you talk about the gods hoping they will share your lie" she spit towards the floor and it landed on the bottom of Sansa's dress. "What will you think of your gods when The Hound is hacked to pieces? You think they'll care about you? When today is done I won't even believe Gods exist, I will burn you so badly you'll look even more hideous than the Hound."

An ache was forming in Sansa's jaw but she did her best to ignore it. She stared completely focused and emotionless at Cersei. She forced Sansa to look out the window. "I was marched through those streets when I was falsely accused. I was taunted and humiliated. When you are proved guilty, I'll strip you naked and take you through the streets so people can jeer and curse you, then when your walk is done I'll throw you to the men of flea bottom. A high born girl like you will be too good to resist, they'll rip you apart before they have time to rape you bloody." She gripped onto Sansa hair and pulled it tightly "I'll let you keep your hair, I want something for the men to hold on to when they tear you open"

Sansa didn't answer at first, she waited till the grip loosen slightly on her jaw so she was comfortable to smile "No need for any of that, your grace" the fire burning in Cersei's green eyes was too delightful for Sansa not to smile at "I am innocent, and the gods will judge me as such. Remember when you were on trial? The Gods judged you, and you were found to be innocent. I am sure the gods will give me the same honor"

Cersei tossed her to the side. Sansa found her footing easily and rubbed her jaw slightly feeling a numb pain ring through her. "Stupid little girl. We both know how this is going to unfold" she said, almost sadly, if it was possible "Don't you get it, You can't win, even if you walk away today you have nowhere to go. The Riverlands are destroyed, the Vale is in ruins, the North is a inhospitable, the Iron Islands are in turmoil and a dragon queen is coming from the south. She'll happily see you burnt to ash before her eyes the moment you say your name. This is the Game of Thrones, you win or you die, and you can't win."

Sansa laughed at her, harshly and loudly "You think we are still playing? Cersei, this isn't a game anymore, we have gone past snide remarks and petty lies. We are in a world where dragons fly and the dead rise from the ground, where ice eats fire and humans burn like kindle. We are no longer lords and peasants, Kings and Queens. This is life and death now. You can't win at life, you can only hold off death for as long as possible." She took a few controlled steps towards her, her height an obvious advantage. "Believe me, my Queen, we are both going to die very soon, but I will try my hardest, I will fight tooth and nail, and I will cheat, lie, and steal to make sure I live through this winter, and I will make sure I will see you die before me."

Sansa bared her teeth, seeing the woman that brought the pain for many years almost trembling in front of her "I think it is time for my trial"

Sansa stood face to face with the Queen. Cersei looked so frail when she wasn't surrounded by her guards. She was just another woman in the Game of Thrones. The struggle was taking her toll on her beauty. Her hair was thin and had lost some of its golden glow. Her eyes were heavy. She had to fight for her place, just like Sansa has. She has also had to survive for far longer. _Petyr underestimated you. _Sansa admired in that brief moment trying not to lose focus. _You are still a Lannister, no one would dare insult you by calling you a Baratheon, you still have your name, even if that was all you have, _Sansa envied that more than anything about the woman in front of her. "May you lead the way" Sansa said completely changing her tone, she gestured towards the door.

The queen still glared, her pale hands gripping so tightly together Sansa could see red marks forming. "After you, I insist" Cersei said and nudged Sansa forward roughly.

Outside the room Septas stood silently next to Ser Meryn Trant and a comely man Sansa had never met before. Trant had the nerve to glance her up and down and frown "What's this girl doing in a Kingsguard cloak." He asked the man next to him with an amused smirk. "Does she think she is a knight?"

_I am more of a knight than you, _she thought, and put on a smile that conveyed what she was thinking. "Meryn Trant, I see you are still around" she said with the politest tone that was so sweet it sounded acidic.

"It is ser to you gir- I mean my lady" he corrected himself. "Is that the Hounds cloak?"

She didn't answer. A Septa came over to fix the front of the cloak together with a seven-pointed star broach. It now surrounded her like a great cocoon, dwarfing her completely. They all started to make their way through the marble walls of the great sept. Sansa walked alone, in front was the queen and her two guards and behind was a few Septas. Clearly no one worried about her attacking anyone or trying to escape.

"Did you see the Hound at the trial?" Sansa heard Trant say to the other man dressed in handsome white.

He nodded "a beast of a man" he answered in a dull voice with an accent that sounded like it came from the far south. "He was a part of the Kingsguard?"

"Years ago" Trant huffed, "he had no place on it though. He was no true knight and galloping here to save his bitch isn't going to change that."

Sansa giggled loudly. Making sure he heard. He shot back a deadly look. "What is it girl"

"I was just thinking" Sansa still giggled girlishly "you can't exactly talk about being chivalrous when you are barely a knight yourself"

They started down the flights of winding stairs. Trant's sword pummel glinted in the torchlight. "A knight of the Kingsguard follows orders from the king, it isn't my place to question them" the excuse hadn't changed from when she was younger.

Sansa rolled her eyes "Sandor never hit me, yet he isn't a true knight"

"The Hound has done worse things than you could imagine."

"SILENCE" The queen spun on her step to face her Kingsguard and her prisoner. The sudden stop sent a woman crashing into the back of Sansa.

"I don't want my protectors arguing like fat maidens" Cersei hissed "If you can't stop yourself from being dragged into a petty squabble with a little girl then I will give you to Ser Robert Strong. You can be his warm up before the trial today. Do I make myself clear?"

Cersei didn't wait for an answer before she turned back around and continued on her way. Trant huffed loudly but followed orders. He ignored Sansa's giggle.

* * *

When the doors of the Great Sept opened, Sansa was hit with the most glorious winter breeze. Small specks of snow landed on her cheeks making them turn cherry red. It had been almost a moons turn since she had stepped out into the air and even then she never got a proper look at Kingslanding.

The roofs were covered in a thick white coating of snow, while in the streets below the snow was a brown mush filled with the scum the city had thrown to the gutter. Sansa could see a few corpses buried in the snow and children racking through brown ice to retrieve dead rats. The winter didn't have the same magic as it did in the North or even in the Vale. There, where in the winter's cold could freeze the breath between your lips never looked this harsh.

Directly at the foot of the steps of Baelor was a small crowd of peasants. They were wrapped in torn sheets, drapes, and cloaks.

Sansa worried her lower lip and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. The last time she faced a crowd like this, they pulled her from her horse and would have torn apart. These were an even sorrier looking bunch, their eyes cried out their pain but they neither cheered nor jeered as Queen Cersei made her way down the steps.

_I thought Margaery was helping them _she pondered as she passed a white bearded man with half his hand missing, the stump was black and frozen over. _Clearly when she got the power she felt no need to help the people that got her there. _That saddened Sansa. When Margaery first entered her life she was surrounded by an air of hope. That had now crumbled like everything else in this city.

She caught the eyes of a girl who couldn't have been much older than her. Her damp hair was tangled in thick strands. The dress she wore was too short for her and it showed the end of her flea bitten legs and her blackened bare feet. Sansa paused by the girl for a moment.

"Are your feet cold?" she asked lightly, bending low like she was curtsying, but instead she started to unfasten the string on her leather boots.

"Urh, quite milady." She croaked, her eyes wide.

Sansa felt silent eyes on her as she pulled the first boot from her foot then starting on the second. The stone floor was far colder than she could have expected but she kept her face calm as the brown water soaked through her woolen stockings.

She gave the boots to the young woman. "Your grace, I mean, milady, I can't accept these"

"Don't be silly" Sansa smiled sweetly, she saw the girl in front of her beam hesitantly "You need them more than I do. Admittedly they are a bit tattered but they'll last you an entire winter."

The girl took the boots, her lips nervously quivering "You are too kind."

Sansa giggled and then sighed "Not at all, it is my duty and my honor to help the disadvantaged" she took the girl's hand and kissed the fingers lightly "May the seven bring you good fortune." She moved swiftly, her cloak feeling ten times lighter and her feet ten times colder.

Cersei was watching her with an expression halfway between a glare and a wary smirk. Sansa took care to not let the pain in her feet show on her face. Even when she arrived at courtyard where the trial was taking place, she still wore that same cool expression.

The trial was happening inside the castle courtyard. The place was swarming with lords on the ground and high above on the castle walkways several hundred people had gathered. They watched from windows and stables, from roofs and towers, all elbowing each other to get the best view. _Greatest show on earth_ Sansa considered gazing around at the many eyes that didn't really pay too much attention to her. They didn't particularly care for her; they just wanted to see blood.

Some of the people had brought their children and even chairs to perch on so they could enjoy the fight in comfort. The lords who still bustled in the centre of the yard had special seated platforms. There was a single one by the newly constructed Tower of the Hand. Margaery and young King Tommen sat there. Margaery was wearing black again. It was a gorgeous tight fitting dress that covered her from chin to toe in eccentric black linen and silk. A delicate piece of lace covered her eyes and she clutched onto a handkerchief and a black rose. Tommen, still looking young with bright blond hair, wore black and yellow, his father's colours. It dawned on Sansa that he was now the same age as Joffery was when she first met him.

He had none of Joffery's grace or sensibility, but he didn't look like he had any of his cruelty either. He was plump and looked young for his age. _The same age as Bran _Sansa remembered. She recalled once watching the young prince and her younger brother dueling at Winterfell. Bran was far better, he had so much potential.

She tore her eyes away from Tommen when she felt a wrenching pain in her chest.

Suddenly she felt more trapped in this huge space than she ever did in her cell. The hundreds of judgmental eyes, the whispering, the memories, it was all coming crashing in on her. Yet no one was paying attention to her, she could of run, but there was nowhere to go. Her only choice was to stay, trapped in a circle of people that would have happily seen her die.

"Hello My lady" A man's voice said from behind her snapping her from her destructive thoughts. She looked to see Jaime Lannister and a huge woman walking towards her.

"Ser" she curtsied and smiled widely, "I fear Ser Jaime, I never thanked you for stepping forward as my champion. That was very gracious of you"

Jaime smirked not unkindly "It is a knight duty to protect the innocent. Though I doubt I would have been much use to you" he gestured to his missing hand.

Sansa laughed sweetly "still, it an honour to be acknowledged by such an acclaimed knight as yourself"

Jaime laughed as well, though harshly "acclaimed? Yes, that is a better word than tarnished isn't it."

Sansa saw the glance Jaime made to the large woman, out of the pair of them, she was the only one clad in armor, and she had a fine garnet incrusted sword at her waist. Sansa also noticed Jaime wasn't wearing his kingsguard cloak.

"Ser Jaime" Sansa started.

"Its lord Jaime now Lady Stark" he corrected, raising his left hand to silence her politely "I was denounced of my titles a few days ago."

"Oh" Sansa paused, the man looked sad yet content. The woman behind him looked like she was about to burst into tears. Sansa looked around so see were Sandor was, it was soon time for the fight and he was no were to be seen. Panic hit her when she thought the kiss had frightened off the huge man. "My lord, shouldn't I have already been to see my champion by now?" she asked with a fretful voice.

Jaime looked to his Lady Knight and back at Sansa "He'll be out soon and take it from me, as a man who spent many years getting in and out of armour, his tent is no place for a Maiden like yourself." He coughed and stepped to the side to let the large lady through. "Lady Sansa, I wanted to speak to you because I want to introduce you to Lady Brienne of Tarth"

_House Tarth , Lord Selwyn Tarth, sworn to House Baratheon, from the Island of Tarth, only one living daughter, which must be you, _Sansa concluded as she bowed and inspected the woman. She must have been the same height as Sandor though not as muscled. "It is a pleasure to meet you"

Brienne stepped forward like she was about to say something, or maybe she was about the fall to her knees and cry, Sansa couldn't know "The pleasure is all mine my lady" she said breathlessly.

It was an awkward few moments while Brienne and Jaime just stared at her. She tried to think of something smart to say then she remembered something "Oh, I heard a lot about your adventures_ my lady" _She said the last part hesitantly. The woman didn't answer she just tilted her head to the side. "Yes" Sansa continued "I heard you helped stop a portion of the Brotherhood without Banners and you killed Lady Stoneheart."

All the strength Brienne may have possessed vanished before her eyes and she paled. Stuttering and shaking she backed away from Sansa. Jaime put his hand good arm around Brienne. "We'll speak to you later Lady Sansa. Good luck, by the new gods you are sure to win" Jaime softly said, patting the woman's arm before leading her away.

_That was weird_ Sansa thought as a fanfare sounded and a Goldcloak came over to usher Sansa to the far side of the yard. The audience silenced while Tommen and the High Septon stood to address them. Tommen spoke with a high fluctuating voice and the High Septon blessed the fighters and said the father will bring justice.

In her corner she listened intently, sometimes whispering along with the prayers, and always keeping her eyes on King Tommen, looking at him like he was a God. She felt a figure come up beside her. His rough metal plating felt cold even through her cloak.

When the charade was done and the crowd went back to whispering and jeering, Sansa finally turned to her champion. He was already wearing his helm. It was new simply designed curved one that completely covered his face. She could just barely see the whites of his eyes through the grid at the front. "Did you sleep well last night little bird?" he almost chirped, it echoed inside his metal mask.

"I did, and yourself?" she asked charmingly.

Shaking his head he placed a hand on her shoulder "I never slept well before battle."

"Have you been in many battles?" She asked idly watching Robert Strong exist his tent. She heard Sandor's breath catch at the sight of the huge man. He was taller than any man Sansa had seen, he wore handsome white armour that was covered in symbols of the faith. His white cloak that matched hers fluttered in the breeze. His monstrous figure looked graceful, comely, and grand though Sansa wouldn't dare say it aloud.

He sighed heavily "I have been in a few" he rubbed his neck with his free hand; his mail clinked as he shuffled awkwardly.

"You should tell me about them when all this is done." Her hand met his on her shoulder. "I am sure you have some exciting tales to tell"

Their eyes met briefly before he snorted and looked across the yard to his brother. "Fighting isn't pretty little bird. It isn't all knights and heroes. You cut men down where they stand and they bleed, and more often than not they shit. No one ever tells you about the shit"

Sansa giggled at his vulgarity. She rubbed her thumb over the top of his fingers. "Not today though. Today you'll be my hero."

"Like Florian and Jonquil?" he mocked, a harsh laugh came from above her and he removed his hand from her shoulder.

Sansa laughed harshly as well. She twirled towards him "No never, a fool and his cunt?" she quoted still beaming "Oh Sandor do you really think so little of me?" The crowd around was growing impatient as Tommen stood up again to speak to them, this time to welcome the champions to the floor. "and you are not a fool. You are a true knight, well, truer than any I have ever known." She unfastened a single ribbon that held up part of her hair. A small cluster of auburn curls fell forward but she didn't care. "And every true knight deserves a favor from his maiden."

She couldn't read his face through the mask but uncertainty sunk in. He was going to laugh at her again. He was going to ruin everything. People were watching from above, Cersei from across the yard. The ribbon was heavy in her palm and though she smiled prettily, she pleaded with her eyes.

Sandor lifted his sword from its sheath and held it towards her "I can't tie it with these on" he said flexing his chained fingers. Sansa bent to the task, hearing whispers from girls in the crowds watching in awe. She sealed the small bow with a chaste kiss on the hilt before rising.

He removed his helm swiftly. He was smiling wide and it showed in his eyes. The Stark grey twinkled with bliss. She couldn't see any fear for the fight or any regret or remorse as if he was about to die. "You're wearing my cloak" he breathlessly rasped "You kept it. Why?"

She shook her head and took his hand in hers "because it was the only thing I had of yours, I wanted you to be back with me again, to protect me from these people." She gestured around. She kissed the top of his hand, through the cold steel Sansa could feel his fingers twitch.

He gently took his hand back to his belt and pulled a dagger from its place. "If things don't go to plan, don't give them the satisfaction" His eyes couldn't focus on her for long before they flicked back to his hands. He passed the simple blade to her.

"I won't need it" she giggled before leaning up on the tips of her toes to plant a kiss on his burnt cheek. "The heroes never lose" she lied.

A ragged breath came from him and all she heard was "Little Bird"

She pulled away from him, biting her lip. A fanfare was sounding and Robert Strong was making his way to the centre. Sansa looked above her and saw a thousand gawping eyes. Sandor put his helm back on and nodded before striding into the centre of the ring as well.

The trumpets and drums boomed out. Sansa could feel the heat from around her, it was a warmth from every daughter that gasped in when they saw the favor on the Hounds sword, from boy who ever dreamed of being as big and as strong as her true knight Sandor, and even Margaery was smiling admirably in her direction. The only chill Sansa could feel was the glare coming from Cersei on the opposite side of the courtyard. She winked at the Queen with a smirk on her face.

The air suddenly felt heavy when the fanfare stopped and the sickening clang of Robert's sword colliding with Sandor's breastplate echoed into the sky.

* * *

**Some more notes:- I do hope you enjoyed it, though it is only the first half I hope there are part that are interesting, though I also know this is all very confusing because there are a lot of quite random things going on. **

**Personal review, some of this chapter I love, some of it I hate. The fact that it is very long without a lot of story moving forward, well, I am sorry. The next chapter is far more action packed as you can expect. Also there is a death of a character in the next chapter as you can probably guess because they are having a fight to the death, but it is just a warning. **

**Thank you for reading. **


End file.
